GROWING PAINS
by Chick Feed
Summary: More than anything, Dean wanted the door to open and for Sam to come striding into the room. ...warning...torture scene...warning...
1. Chapter 1

A.N. **_Welcome_** to a short little ficlet intending to be finished in a maximum of three chapters. Written just because.  
_Disclaimer : You know it, I know it, they ain't mine._

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**_More than anything, Dean wanted the door to open  
_****_and for Sam to come striding into the room._**

**GROWING PAINS**

**- 1 -**

Dean was certain he must be taller than his usual 6'1 by now. Maybe he'd have to borrow Sam's clothes? Obviously, there were some shirts that Sammy owned that should never be allowed out in daylight, and Dean would definitely not be borrowing any of _those_ horrors. Alternatively, Dean figured that if he simply bought all new, then maybe Sam would borrow _his_ clothes and finally begin to look cool. Yeah, that would be a better way round. Then again, what if he ended up being even taller than Sam? Hah! Then there'd be no arguments, 'cos there'd be no doubt who was the big brother, in height as well as age. Sam would _have_ to listen to him then, and Sam would be the one getting a constant crick in his neck for a change.

Dean entertained himself compiling a mental list of the name's he'd be able to call his little brother...Shortass...Dwarf...Titch...Mini-man...Mini-mouse? Dean's creativity was interrupted as the door to his room opened. The softly spoken man he knew as Justin entered, smiling happily when he saw that Dean was awake.  
"Good morning Dean. Did you sleep well?"  
Dean grunted. He was tired, worn out, aching. He hadn't slept at all, couldn't get comfortable. Every time he moved it had awakened hot pains that swept throughout his body, leaving him breathless and perspiring.  
"Not so much. You?"  
Justin's smile broadened in delight.  
"Why Dean! You're the first one to ever ask me that! Thank you, it means a lot to me and yes, I slept like the proverbial dead. Well now, I think you've just earned yourself a nice wash."

Justin walked over to a small stainless steel hand basin and began wetting a face cloth. Once he was satisfied, he moved to Dean's side and began gently wiping the cool cloth over Dean's face and neck. It felt good. That done, Justin next filled a small plastic bowl with cold water. Grabbing a towel he moved back to Dean and placed the bowl on top of a bedside cabinet. Dean glanced at the bowl and Justin chuckled.  
"Oh, come on. It's only water, it's not going to hurt you!"  
Dean didn't respond, but his gaze never left the man as Justin began to move the cloth over Dean's bare arms, chest and stomach. A couple of times Dean couldn't stop himself from flinching and taking in a hissed breath. Each time, Justin stopped and apologised, waiting until Dean appeared to have gathered himself before then continuing with his ministrations, finishing his task by patting Dean dry. Satisfied, Justin finally stood back, seemingly admiring his own efforts.

"There now, how does that feel? Better?"  
Dean closed his eyes and nodded, because really, it _did_ feel better. He felt more refreshed, a little less wasted, a little more human. But then, all too soon, any benefits he felt rapidly drained away and a sob caught in the back of Dean's throat when Justin spoke again.  
"Well now...Time to carry on from where we left off yesterday, don't you think?"

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**_Thanks for visiting. A Review here or there might help me figure out how chapter 2 should go. (All my stories start out with just the opening scene figured. After that, I generally have no idea what's going to happen) :D_**

**_Chick xx_**


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. A big **_hello_** to those people following this little fic. It would be good to hear from you but hey, the most important thing is to, hopefully, entertain you.

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**GROWING PAINS**

**- 2 -**

Dean couldn't hide the tremor of fear which ran through him. Justin was so damn calm, and Dean knew that they were _always_ the worst. A rage driven psychotic was generally too labile not to make a mistake, to not leave a gap that could be used against them; too fired up not to get distracted. But the calm ones? They tended to be the emotionless bastards, the ones without empathy, the ones who could keep themselves under control. Those type, they were the ones to fear and it was, clearly, one of those who stood at the side of Dean right now, all fake niceness and politeness. That kind of calm without conscience? It terrified Dean to be this way, so vulnerable, so exposed and so completely unable to defend himself.

What made things even worse this time was that Dean didn't think he had anything that the guy wanted. He suspected the guy didn't even know about Hunters, let alone know that Dean _was_ one. His torture was just that, torture. There was no ulterior motive behind it, no demands or questions that needed an answer., no bargaining chip. This guy was simply 50 shades of freak and, even worse, completely human. Dean's voice came out whisper soft. "Please...don't...don't..."

Justin leant over, reaching forward he brushed the back of his hand gently across Dean's cheek.  
"You know what? I'm tempted..._really_ tempted. You _are_ a very beautiful boy, and you're being so polite today. I do wonder what it would be like to just sit and talk for a while? Would you like that, boy? Us...talking?"  
Squeezing his eyes closed, recognising that his best hope was seemingly to remain polite, to speak softly, to act compliant; Dean nodded.  
"Yes...Yes, I'd like that very much."

Justin's hand moved from Dean's face onto his shoulder and lightly stroked the rest of the way along the length of Dean's bare arm, causing Dean to shiver minutely and goosebumps to appear on the skin of his forearm.  
"You have very muscular arms."  
Dean stayed quiet, uncertain how to respond.  
"I tried working out once. Joined the local gym. It was a horrifying experience and I went back only once."  
Dean ran his tongue over his lips.  
"What happened?"

Justin smiled and continued to stroke Dean's arm.  
"Ah, sweet boy. You _are_ a delight. They laughed at me. The instructor who was supposed to be showing me around and the men who were there pumping up their muscles and admiring themselves in a way which, I swear, would have made Narcissus proud. Yes, I acknowledge that my own body type was clearly sited at the opposite end of the spectrum to theirs but _that_, after all, was why I was there!"

Dean struggled to feel any real sympathy, not least because the constant swipe up and down his arm was beginning to irritate the hell out of him, the movement was also awakening various pains. None-the-less, he tried.  
"That sounds...upsetting."  
Justin nodded, looking sad.  
"Oh yes...it was. Still. Returning later to burn the place down with those posers locked inside went _some_ way to making me feel less hurt."  
"You set fire to the gym? Knowing there were people inside?"

Justin stopped stroking Dean's arm, moving his hand to lay his palm flat against Dean's chest, fingers splayed.  
"Ah my beautiful boy...Of course, someone like _you_ will never have experienced how painful it can be. The snide remarks, the put downs, the sniggers, even those long looks of sympathy which follow someone like me around. But, I have proven that I don't _need_ the sympathy or the charity. I have proven that someone like me can, in fact, hurt someone like you; you with your perfect face and delicious physique. _I_ can be the one in control, and I can cause suffering to people such as you in order that you can, at last, experience the torment which I once felt."

Dean felt his anxiety rise as he looked into Justin's cold, hard eyes. He was in the company of madness, madness turned evil, and he was completely helpless.

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Kiss kiss.  
Chick :)


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N. Dedicated to __**Frostygossamer**__ for highlighting my...er...deliberate mistake. You know, the old Julian/Justin blooper? Man's crazy enough already without me dumping some kinda "split personality" on him! Anyway, I've chosen to stick with Justin.  
__Also, thank you to the others amongst you who have been gracious enough to review this unplanned piece, and a special _**Cooeeee!** _to my friend __**DeansBabyBird**__. I will be replying to you all individually in order to give you my heartfelt thanks._

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**GROWING PAINS**

**- 3 -**

It was clear that Justin was losing grip on the aura of calm that he had surrounded himself with initially, and he was now edging back into the tense, paranoid psychosis type of delusional state that he had been in when Dean first woke from his drug induced sleep, and found himself strapped down in this room. At that time as Dean's awareness had increased, he had seen Justin rapidly pacing the width of the room, apparently holding a frantic conversation with someone. Right off, Dean had recognised the friendly, if a little odd, older member of the bar staff that were working at the biker's bar he'd been in.

At first as he lay quietly watching the man, Dean thought maybe he was talking with a ghost? But it hadn't taken Dean _too_ long to realise that there was nothing at all supernatural playing this guy, it was his own personal inner demons that Justin was arguing with. Put simply, the guy was sans medication and Dean was in trouble from the get go.

Justin had moved to stand just behind where Dean lay. Dean twisted his head around as much as he could and locked eyes with the man.  
"Please..._Justin_. I'm not one of those people. I never met you before I went to the bar. You don't have to do this, I'm not laughing at you, I haven't hurt you, I'm not...,.,.,.,..."  
Justin leaned down, his face inches from Dean's, his mouth a sneer.  
"Oh, but my boy. You are _just_ like all those others, and you know it! You deserve this, as much as they ever did and I am simply giving you what you deserve. You should be thanking me for this lesson, for the time I'm prepared to devote to you, so that you can learn to understand the torment you've put me through. I refuse to be scared of you anymore. You're _nothing_...Get it? **_Nothing!"_**

Dean screamed as Justin turned the wheel on his homemade medieval style wrack and began again to slowly stretch Dean's limbs and body. Amidst the pain, Dean suddenly felt both shoulders dislocate in unison, closely followed by the **_pop_** of one knee. The all encompassing lightening flash of agony caused Dean to react by vomiting . Unable to expel it, Dean began to choke on his own puke. Tears ran off either side of his reddening face as he spluttered and fought for breath. Ignorant of Dean's battle to breath, Justin again turned the wheel and exerted more pressure.

More than anything, Dean wanted the door to open and for Sam to come striding into the room. He wanted it so badly that he could actually _visualise_ it. He felt a tearing sensation in the muscle of one thigh, his head jerked forward in response, causing puke to pour down his chin and neck. Gagging and coughing, Dean cleared enough vomit to take a hiccupping, sobbing breath. The Sam in Dean's mind shot him a look that said _I'm_ _here, stay focused, I'm here, _as the vision crossed the room in a blur of motion, going straight for Justin who, Dean saw, had only just become aware of the image that Dean so desperately wanted to be real. Dean smiled slightly before he once again howled out his pain and hopelessness.

Unable to take much more, Dean retreated almost into a state of disassociation, gazing through the hurt to watch as Justin finally swung around, and found himself looking up into the rage filled eyes of an extremely deadly giant. Still fully believing that the scenario was only being played out inside his own head, Dean whispered,  
_"__Now your for it! My little brother's come an' he's gonna get you."_

Dean watched with interest as Justin raised both hands and tried to push Sam, as if he was attempting to move Sam out of his way. Dean gave a short, breathless, laugh at how ridiculous Justin looked now, with one of Sam's huge hands wrapped around his throat as Sam's other hand swooped in an upward motion. Dean frowned when he saw a flash of light reflecting off the blade he realised Sam was holding.  
_"__No...no..."_

Dean couldn't understand it, this was _his_ daydream, so why couldn't he control it? Why wouldn't it re-wind so that Sammy _didn't_ plunge the knife deep into Justin's gut, before then yanking it upwards through Justin as though he were gutting a fish? Dean didn't _want_ to see Justin's blood spew out of Justin's mouth, spilling over his bottom lip in a bubbling scarlet waterfall. Didn't want the awful sight of the man's bloody intestines tumbling out, slip sliding over Sam's forearm before starting to spill into a pile on the floor. He hadn't wanted his imaginings to end with the horrifying sight of Sam, _his_ Sammy, with an expression of satisfaction along with something akin to pleasure, staring into Justin's eyes, watching the light fade, watching Justin die.  
_"__No...Stop! Please, please stop. Don't...,..,..,..,..."_

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Hmmmm...Seems I lied when I started this, 'cos obviously there's going to be a Chapter 4. Don't know about you lot, but_ I_ need to know how it ends **;****7****)  
****Chick xx**


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N. So, I blame whichever one of you it was who said they were sad it was going to be such a short story. S'all your fault, nuffin' to do with me at all._

**_Also_**_, if there are any purists looking in, please note : HUGE amount of artistic licence used when it comes to therapy. I made something up, ok? I didn't want to start having to explain NLP or EMDR or psychosocial blah blah's or CBT or using meds or any _other_ technojargonese. It's fiction, an' it's supposed to have been short! (No...Don't **any** of you __**dare**__ ask what all the initials stand for...Ignorance is bliss)._

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**GROWING PAINS**

**- 4 -**

Not bothering with the winding mechanism, Sam used his blood soaked knife to cut and hack through the thick leather strapping securing Dean's ankles to the contraption, freeing them to drop the few inches back onto the solid surface of the device and, as a result, immediately releasing the drag on Dean's whole body. Moving to Dean's wrists, Sam cupped his half conscious brother's head in one hand before, again, slicing haphazardly through the strapping. Dean's arms and hands flopped limply to the wooden surface whilst Sam gently lowered Dean's head. As he did so, Sam became aware that Dean was softly murmuring to himself.

Dean's eyes were almost closed and dulled with pain. He didn't seem to recognise that Sam was there, or to feel Sam stroking his face, or hear Sam saying his name, or respond when Sam repeatedly, desperately, tried telling Dean he was safe now, that help was on it's way. Dean simply maintained a distant gaze along with his quietly muttered litany_.  
"Gotta change endin'...No dead...S'mee no, no kill...Change endin'...Hafta change endin'...S'mee don' kill..."  
_Feeling confused and afraid, Sam sat holding Dean's hand, listening to the mantra, relieved when Dean's eyes finally closed completely, his murmuring abruptly coming to an end. Silence then hung in the air like a sodden blanket until Sam, finally, heard the welcome sound of sirens getting closer.

Sam had told the police what he could, shown them the evidence, promised he wouldn't leave the backwater town, and was currently sat anxiously by Dean's post operative hospital bed, nervously waiting for the Mental Health Trauma Specialist to arrive.

Dean had come round from the anaesthetic three hours earlier but, other than his half open eyelids and the subtle change in the readings from the EEG machine, no one would know. Dean hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, hadn't looked around to gauge where he was, had hardly even blinked; and it was freaking Sam out completely. It was the one and only reason he had agreed to let a shrink anywhere _near_ his brother.

Sam gave Dean's hand a squeeze, he had consistently maintained some kind of physical contact with Dean since he was told Dean was awake. He leaned forward in the chair, making sure he was directly in Dean's line of sight.  
"Dean? God Dean...I hope you can hear me bro. I need you to come back, you're scaring me dude. Dean? Please, give me _some_ kinda sign you're still in there Dean. For Chrissake, there's someone from the _psych_ unit on their way to see you! Please,_ please_...show them you're ok. Come back to me Dean...Dean?"

A polite cough from the doorway startled Sam and he automatically went from seated to stood protectively at Dean's bedside before turning to look at the intruder. He was surprised to see a petite Native American woman in her mid fifties. Her short bobbed hair was still dark. apart from one, striking, steel grey inch wide stripe running through it and framing one side of her face. Her light brown eyes were surrounded by laugh lines which had the effect of making her look, and Sam had no idea where the word came from, _merry_. Gold metal rimmed glasses were perched up on her head and she was casually dressed in a dark green crew neck jumper and pale brown linen pants. Low heeled boots completed her outfit and she wore only a minimal amount of makeup. Sam couldn't help but smile when he took in the brown leather tote bag slung over one shoulder. It seemed nearly as big as she was! Completing the picture, clutched in one hand was a dark green, and clearly well worn, baseball cap.

The woman grinned in response to Sam's small smile and walked toward him, hand already held out. She had to tilt her head back in order to maintain eye uncomfortable thought that their height difference meant she could probably see straight up his nose unexpectedly crossed Sam's mind.  
"Hello up there. You must be Sam? Good God but you're tall! Obviously, you'll know that already, but...good God! Do you play basket ball? I'm Donna, I'm from the trauma team. How about you sit down? Then my neck'll be safe from harm and, also, I won't have such a good view up you nose!...Hey! If this guy here is Sam, then you must be Dean. Holy horse poo! No one mention how damn cute you are! Don't worry honey, you're safe with me. I'm _waaayyy_ too old...but hey! That don't mean I can't look now, does it?"

Sam still hadn't spoken a word, not that'd he'd had the opportunity. He'd simply stared, mesmerised. Donna kept her hold on Sam's hand whilst she moved on past him and came to a halt at Dean's bedside. Now directing her conversation to Dean, she placed two fingers of her free hand gently against Dean's cheek, before moving them in an imaginary line from Dean's eyes back to her own, as if to show Dean's eyes where to look. Sam saw her watching closely for any response. Sam himself was feeling a little stunned; at no more than 5' tall, Donna somehow managed to fill the room with her presence.

She glanced back at Sam. Letting go of his hand, she nodded at him to sit down before turning her attention once more onto Dean. She was still chatting as she moved herself fully into Dean's line of sight, as Sam had done. "You're brother's being all tall, handsome and silent. Is that how Sam _really_ is? Or have I done my usual and not shut up long enough for either of you to get a word in?"

Sam had been watching Dean whilst Donna was talking to him. Now, Sam realised he was holding his breath and staring, he wasn't totally certain, but he thought he'd seen a slight twitch at one side of Dean's mouth. As Donna continued speaking, he realised she must have seen it too.  
"Yeah, alright Dean...I get the message, _Shut up Donna_. I hear that a lot from my colleagues too...don't understand it myself!"  
Sam leaned forward a little.  
"Did he...?"  
Donna cut him off.  
"Hey, Dean! He _does_ talk, this brother of yours, who knew? Let's give him a chance, eh? You were saying Sam?"  
Donna turned her full attention onto Sam, and Sam's heart gave a lurch as he saw the green of his brother's eyes flick, a minute fraction, toward him.

Donna didn't need to see, she only had to read Sam's reaction to guess what had just happened behind her. She'd found the hook she needed to bring this traumatised young man back, and that hook was Sam, his brother.

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**_A.N. My other half is currently openly laughing at me and going "Three chapters huh? Yeah, right." _**_*Sigh*__** I somehow need to stop my teeny brain from coming up with extra bits. Oooo...I know...Alcohol! :^) **_**Chick xx**


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N. Ok, hands up all those who never bother to read the boring author's notes bit? Oh, erm, my bad...you're not going to put your hands up, are you? Cos if you don't read these notes, then you're not gonna read the bit what says "hands up", are you? (Jeeze...my head!). Anyway, yup, I know I ballsed up and gave my torturer 2 names at first, (any wonder he's paranoid?), but once I was made aware, I went back and edited it and he's only called Justin now. Hope that's ok with everyone. Also, hope you can cope with Chap.5 as it's focus is very much between Donna and Dean. Here we go..._

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**GROWING PAINS**

**- 5 -**

_Someone was there with him, sharing his sanctuary, spoiling the blessed isolation of this retreat he'd found for himself. Dean felt a vague sense of irritation, however, it was being over-ridden by curiosity. He'd thought he was alone, hidden, safe; but somehow there was the distant sound of this other. Huddled in the comfort of darkness, Dean tried to block it, he had no particular desire to listen. A few times now though he had heard the faraway voice speaking something familiar. __**Sam...Dean...your **__**brother...Sam...Dean...**__In his dark corner, Dean frowned. Why did the other keep saying those words? __**...this brother of yours, who knew?...**__Was Sammy in here? Is that what the voice was telling him? Dean peered into the dark, looking for Sam._

Excited, Sam looked from his brother's face to Donna, needing to tell her what he'd just seen but, just as she had done before, Donna cut in,  
"You look done in Sam...Why don't you take a break? Stretch your legs a little? Gorgeous though he is, your brother's completely safe with me. I'll look after him Sam, I promise."  
Uncertain, Sam glanced back at Dean. Sam could feel that, although she had made it sound like a concerned suggestion, Donna was now waiting for him to leave. Finally Sam nodded and stood up, turning to face Donna again.  
"Yeah, ok. There's a machine, I'll get coffee. I'll just be down the corridor..._I won't be long_."  
Sam stressed the latter part of his agreement, but Donna simply responded with a broad smile,  
"You take your time honey, and whilst you're there, why don't you grab a snack as well? We'll cope, won't we Dean?"  
Sam felt a little like he'd just been dismissed from the Principle's office, as Donna turned her attention back to his motionless brother. Sam quietly left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Donna sat herself down on the edge of Dean's bed, ensuring she was still where Dean could see her. At first she remained silent as she gazed at her client, contemplating what his doctor had told her. She knew the boy had been tortured, stretched on some kind of homemade wrack. She knew the perpetrator was dead, allegedly killed by the brother who had tracked down the guy down, walking in on him hurting Dean. She also knew that in the small, non descript rental, Sam had shown the cops two old fashioned travel trunks, each containing the dismembered, badly decomposed remains of two previous victims. A further trunk was empty. Donna figured _that_ one was meant for Dean. The police report described the perp. as a probable drifter, male, mid forties, known as Justin to the staff at the bar where he'd got work as a temp; the same bar that Dean had visited. What had actually happened wouldn't be known until Dean was able to tell _his_ side, but the bar staff remembered Dean, recalled him and Justin chatting. The witnesses had stated that Dean very suddenly seemed drunk, or unwell, or both. That Dean had arrived in a car, but wasn't fit to drive. Justin, about to finish his shift, told the others he was going to drive Dean and his car back to wherever Dean lived. Apparently Justin didn't turn up to work the following day. It didn't create any interest, temps regularly didn't bother to turn up after a while. A couple of the witnesses assumed that Justin had simply hitched up with Dean and they had been enjoying some happy ever after.

Donna's eyes skimmed over the large areas of bruising around Dean's shoulders, both of which had been dislocated. Both trapezium muscles had been stretched and strained to their limit. Red, inflamed patches and swellings told the tale of the damage to the cartilage between his ribs. One leg was covered in a full length cast, the result of tearing to the thigh muscle. Bandages covered one knee, so badly damaged that Dean had needed surgery to repair it. Swelling and dark purple bruises around his wrists and ankles still clearly showed the pattern and indentations caused by the pull and pressure of the strapping used to attach Dean into the device.

At some point during his torture, Dean had escaped what was happening by retreating into the deep recesses of his own mind; and now his brother, the police and the medical staff were all waiting, waiting for Donna to bring him back.

Donna sighed..._Come on girl, time to try to retrieve another lost soul._ She reached out and began to alternate between gently carding her fingers through Dean's hair and softly stroking his cheek. Leaning closer, she quietly began to talk to him.  
"Hey honey, how you doin' in there Dean? You know, other people I've talked to, people who've been where you are, when they came back they all told me that whilst you're locked away inside your own head, it feels like you're in the only safe place in the world; somewhere where nothin' and no one can hurt you. I gotta admit Dean, it sounds like it'd be nice, for a while at least. Not really somewhere I'd want to stay though, it's _gotta_ get boring eventually, don't you think? If it were me, I'd start to miss my family, my books, pizza, stuff like that. I've met _your_ family Dean, your brother, Sam. He's sooo tall! Gotta be hard to breath at that altitude. Sam's been here all along Dean, watching over you...He's gone now...I sent him away Dean. I sent your brother Sam away..."

_It had gone quiet for a while, peaceful, he liked it better that way, but now the other was back, he could hear it. Why was it here, bothering him again? He decided to ignore it, stupid voice, but then it did it again __**...your **__**brother, Sam. He's sooo tall... **__Yeah, he is, and? __**...He's gone now...**_

Donna's keen eyes picked up the trace of a small frown which formed on Dean's forehead briefly and then was gone.  
"Ok honey, if that's what it's gonna take, so be it."  
Donna braced herself, sometimes she hated the things she did, but she wasn't one to back away. Shifting position slightly, she placed a hand either side of Dean's face, holding him firmly as she bent even closer, staring him straight in the eyes.

"Your brother's **_gone_** Dean. Sam's gone. **_I_** sent Sam away Dean. I **_made_** him go. He's walking away Dean, your brother is walking away because**_ I_** told him you're not coming back. Sam thinks you're never coming back to him. Are you coming back Dean? **_Come back Dean_**. Sam needs you. Your baby brother needs you. He's afraid Dean. Sam's afraid and he needs you. Sam's gone and he's afraid, so what you gonna do about it my boy? **_Your baby brother is alone and scared_**. He needs you, **_Sammy _**_**needs you Dean!**_"

And, suddenly, there it was. A rapid blink, eye movement, a jerk of the head as Dean tried to get out of Donna's hold on him, and a low moan that turned into exactly what Donna needed from him.  
"Mmmnnnooooo..._S'mee!"_

From behind her, Donna heard a gasping sob, and suddenly Sam was by her side.  
_"__I'm here Dean...Oh God...I'm right here."_

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**_A.N. Warning : Please do not attempt this technique at home...I made it up! DEFINATELY onto the home run now, brotherly shmoop and all that coming up soon :D_**

**Chick xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**_A.N. And soooo...the end is near...la la la la, tum tee tum..._**

* * *

**GROWING PAINS**

**- 6 -**

Donna silently moved off the bed and stood herself behind the chair Sam had earlier been sat on, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, but not yet prepared to relinquish her role as Dean's specialist. Almost on autopilot, Sam took over the spot that Donna had just vacated, his complete attention on his brother, Donna's presence seemingly forgotten. Donna herself smiled as she saw how Dean's eyes immediately latched onto Sam, tracking his every move.

In the brief time she had spent with these brothers it had been obvious to her that the pair were close. But, seeing them now, how they looked at each other, how they spoke without words, how intensely focused they were on one another, to the exclusion of all else; here was a sibling bond like no other she had come across. Even the various sets of identical twins she had worked with during her career couldn't compare to what she was sensing between _these_ two. As she watched, she found herself pondering on what might have happened to create such a powerful bond? Standing there, in that room, a part of her felt very much an intruder and that she should allow them their privacy. Her innate fascination with people, however, drove her to stay. It suddenly occurred to her that she was possibly being witness to something rarely shown to the outside world, and she recognised how privileged that made her.

Sam smiled as he gazed back at Dean and reached to comb his fingers through Dean's hair; afraid to touch him anywhere else, not wanting to cause him pain, but needing physical contact.  
"Welcome back Dean. You honestly had me terrified for a while there."  
"S'm?...How?"  
"When you didn't come back, I went to the bar. One of the barmaids told me what had happened and I...Well, I guess I just kinda took it from there. I knew I'd got the right place when I saw the Impala."  
Dean looked confused.  
"You came? There?"  
Sam nodded, conflicting emotions flooding through him.  
"Yes. I saw him...what he was doing to you..."  
Sam broke off, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He felt the light touch of Dean's hand on his thigh.  
"S'ok Sammy...S'ok my baby brother."

It was too much for Sam and he bent forward, placing his forehead against Dean's as he tried to hold back the tears.  
"Oh God, Dean...What he did?...What he was going to do? And after, when you didn't respond. I'd lost you Dean, I'd lost you again even though you were right in front of me; and I thought, I thought I might never get you back, despite you being right next to me."  
Through sheer determination, Dean ignored the level of hurt it caused, and slowly moved, curling his arm around his younger brother and resting his hand on Sam's back. It wasn't the most effective hug in the world, but it was no less full of love and concern for all that. For a while neither of them spoke, until eventually it was Dean's whispered words which broke the silence.  
"You should'na killed him Sammy...was'n your fault though...you din' know."

At Dean's words, Sam pulled away, dislodging his brother's hand, until he could clearly see Dean's expression.  
"Dean? What didn't I know? What do you mean?"  
Dean reached up and stroked Sam's face, smiling softly up at his brother's confused expression.  
"You din' know he was sick...not evil Sammy...just sick, you know? Innis head. He shoulda' been in hospital...he shoulda' been looked after...But s'not your fault, you din' know."  
It wasn't common for Sam Winchester to pause and consider his responses, however, this _was_ one of those rare moments. Finally, he spoke.  
"You're right Dean, I didn't know. Thank you for seeing that, thank you for understanding."  
Sleepy green eyes looked fondly up into tear filled hazel green ones.  
"Don' cry Sammy...Don' cry...S'all ok...We're ok...No cry."

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**_A.N. Epilogue coming up next. _****Thank you****_ to everyone who has taken the time to read "Growing Pains", I just hope I haven't let you down._**

**Chick xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**GROWING PAINS**

**EPILOGUE**

Sam stood up from the bed, before stooping down again and impulsively placing a brushed kiss onto his sleeping brother's forehead. As he straightened up and turned away, he was startled to see Donna quietly watching. Sam shrugged and gave her an embarrassed smile. Donna responded with a small one of her own, before her expression became serious. She glanced across to Dean, satisfying herself that he was sleeping peacefully then, crooking her finger, she beckoned Sam to follow her out of the room.

Wordlessly, she led Sam down the corridor to a small patient's lounge. Satisfied the room was empty, she ushered Sam inside before following him and closing the door, giving them some privacy. Sam turned to face her and stood, waiting.  
"Please Sam, sit down."  
Sam's expression was suspicious and he shook his head at Donna's request.  
"Tell me what's wrong first...Is it Dean? Is there something I should know?"  
Donna shook her head.  
"_No_...no, Dean's going to do just fine. C'mon Sam, let's sit down, I think I deserve _one_ chance to look you in the eyes..._Please_?"

Sam's reluctance remained evident, but he acquiesced and sat next to the woman, shuffling a little under her bright eyed consideration.  
"You two are exceptionally close, aren't you?"  
Sam didn't answer, waiting to see where this was heading.  
"Are you going to tell him Sam?"  
Sam frowned.  
"You mean about the other two bodies, don't you?"  
Donna nodded.

Sighing, Sam leaned forward, resting his forearms across his legs whilst he seemed to contemplate the floor.  
"Honestly? Right now I'm not sure...If I thought I could get away without telling him, part of me thinks why not? I mean, what would be gained from telling Dean that the guy was a serial killer? What would be the point? Truth is though, I don't get to choose, do I? Even if _I_ don't tell him, he'll find out some other way, from the police, or one of the staff, or by seeing a newspaper."  
Sam gave a short, humourless laugh.  
"I guess if the police decide to charge me, he'll _certainly_ hear about it then!"  
Sam turned to face Donna.  
"What would _you_ do?"

Donna stared out of the lounge window, looking thoughtful. When she looked back at Sam, there was a sad smile on her face.  
"Sam...I can only guess what I might do in your situation; I haven't been in the position you are, or been through the same experience. But, there _is _something I'm certain about...I'm certain that you know your brother as well as you know yourself. I also have the feeling that you already _know_ what to do for the best; and I am _certain_ that you will know what to say, and how best to say it when the time comes."  
Donna rose from her chair. Moving to stand directly in front of Sam, she lay a hand on his shoulder and grinned down at him.  
"It has been a privilege and an honour Sam, and, whatever the story that is carrying you and Dean, wherever it takes you, I sincerely hope it ends well, for _both_ of you."

For a while after Donna left, Sam remained sat alone in the peacefulness of the lounge, enjoying the space just to breathe. Eventually though, he too stood up and wandered out of the room. He began following the corridor back to his brother; hoping he was in time, and that Dean wasn't awake and already giving the ward staff Hell!

**FIN**

**_Till next time,  
_****_Be good, be nice, be happy.  
_****_Chick xxxx_**


End file.
